Wednesday, October 5, 2011

it's the one familiar feeling you've experienced but it hurts each and every time. you'd think you'd get used to it by now, grow numb to it, but no. it's as if it's cutting deeper and deeper with each effort you make to love someone. sometimes it would be your fault, sometimes you would be the victim, but it didn't matter, it hurt all the same. the excruciating pain that came with each blow, the guilt of knowing that you put someone else through what feels like death each and every time...either way it hurt--there was never a winning situation. the choice of winning just didn't co-exist with heartbreak.

so, here you are, sitting on your bed feeling like you can't move on just yet, and you've lost count of how many nights you spent like that, feeling like there's still a little hope you can hold on to. everything in your room just reminds you of the person you once shared yourself with, and your mind goes through every memory of when you both were one person. striving for the same goals, dreaming the same dream, supporting each other, working out your differences and growing together.

you want to figure out just where the two of you went wrong, so you sit and go through every possible scenario, suddenly remembering all the fights you've had in great detail, suddenly remembering all the mean things you've said or the mean things they've said. and you're angry, all over again. you're angry at the fact that you let those small things disturb the steady flow of your relationship, angry the the two of you even blew certain things up out of proportion...just angry. angry and regretful and full of sorrow and pining all at the same time.

you stare at the phone, expecting a call or even just a short text from them, debating whether or not you want to call or text. the time reads 10:00, and usually around this time the two of you would be talking on the phone about your days, what they were doing right now, the things you were thinking about, the plans for tomorrow. but instead, it's quiet in your room. too quiet. and the silence drives you crazy.

so you call them, out of habit and a little desperate to shed this feeling of loneliness, each ring just makes your heart pound in anticipation. you expect their voice any second, that familiar "hello" that just seems to make you feel at ease every time you hear it.

instead, there's no answer. and you just listen to the call switching over to their voicemail, your heart breaking again when you hear their voice telling you that they're not able to answer the phone right now but to leave a message so that they can get back to you.

so you turn to music. almost subconsciously and automatically, you turn to the songs that put your currently emotional state into lyrics of another, someone who can sing the hurt in your heart a bit better than you can. you can't stand the thought of being so melancholy, but you can't help but to linger on these sad melodies.

days pass, your nights spent the same way. it hurts even more because you see them, you share the same friends, the same spots to hang out in. yet you go anyway, a bit masochistic, because you're determined to keep things smooth. determined to keep them in your life, even if it's not the way you want it to be. it's better to be friends than to be strangers, right?

you die a little inside, each and every time. you feel like you'll never be the same again, never partake in love again. but then you realize, slowly, surely, that it gets easier. it gets easier to say hello. easier to look at them. easier to smile, easier to converse, easier to be around, easier to laugh with.

a little more time passes by and you realize that you're okay, you can breathe. one day, it just dawns on you that the person you once thought was your all, your everything--you don't think of them like that anymore. the feeling, it's not there anymore, it's gone, and all it left behind were good memories, you can't even think of the bad. not that you want to. or that you had to. it just...didn't matter.

you sift through those memories every now and then and when you remember, it's just pleasant nostalgia. and you think that though it may have not worked out the way the both of you wanted, you're now glad to have remained friends. you're glad, because through it all, you both grew together, while apart, and it just works out better this way.

mending your heart, you move on, you take the love you once had and lost, you take that love and you move on.

and then you find love again. and it's even more beautiful.

Writing exercise #2, Mike Pen. This one proved to be a little difficult.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Paul: You know what’s wrong with you, Miss Whoever-You-Are? You’re chicken. You got no guts. You’re afraid to stick your chin out and say, “Okay, life’s fact.” People do fall in love. People do belong to each other, because that’s the only chance anybody’s got for real happiness. You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing. You’re terrified somebody’s going to stick you in a cage. Well baby, you’re already in the cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somaliland. It’s wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

yesterday, sean and i went on a random adventure in little tokyo and we chanced upon the tanabata festival while waiting to be seated at shabu shabu house (the best spot for shabu shabu, by the way). as explained in the picture above, people write their wishes on tanzaku paper and hang them onto trees (entwined in bamboo) with other decorations. we both took the time to read the wishes people wrote down and it definitely gave me an intimate look into their anonymous lives. some of them even got me a little teary...